


Breathless

by tess1978



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angry Danse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kinda Romantic, Size Difference, Unreliable Narrator, tall!angry!danse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6091164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tess1978/pseuds/tess1978
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Amy's fault they are fleeing from super mutants. Add that to the list of things Danse hates about her. </p><p>The only place to hide is a small blue cylinder, barely big enough for two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Incite

Ex-Paladin Danse hated Amy Wilson, the only survivor of Vault 111. He despised her. Loathed her, even. 

Everything she said, everything she did, irritated him in some fashion. He wouldn’t even be near her if he had any other choice.

All he could think about as he chased her down the road was how much he hated her. He hated that he was running away from super mutants because of her. She hadn’t needed to go in there. If she had listened to him, they wouldn’t be running right now. He hated how she never listened to him, and this wasn’t the first time they had to flee because of it.

He hadn’t always hated her. He rather admired her the first time they met. She had dropped in on them when they were surrounded by feral ghouls and started beating them off with a baseball bat. A bat covered in barbed wire. Crude, but effective. He didn’t know why he’d asked her to help him retrieve the Deep Range Transmitter from ArcJet Systems, but she’d shrugged and gone with him, and she’d bashed her way through the nest of synths they’d found there. 

And then she set him, Danse, on fire. 

With a rocket.

Maybe that should have been his first clue.

Despite that, he’d been somewhat impressed with how she had handled herself, and so he’d offered to sponsor her as a member of the Brotherhood. She’d just shrugged and said, “Nah, I’m good,” before strolling away.

He hadn’t seen her again for months.

When she finally showed up again, he almost didn’t recognize her. The long blonde ponytail she’d worn when he first met her was gone, and her hair had been hacked off crudely just above chin level. She’d sported a fresh cut on her chin and what appeared to be radiation burns. The vault suit was gone, and in its place she wore a long, black leather coat which she said she got off of a courser. 

Danse hadn’t even known what a courser was. 

She’d told him she wanted into the Brotherhood, That she had discovered a way inside the institute and she needed their help. In return, she was willing to join up with them.

He had been skeptical, but unwilling to go back on his previous offer, so with some trepidation, he brought her up the Prydwen and presented her to Elder Maxson. That meeting hadn’t gone over particularly well. She had interrupted him several times, actually popped gum into her mouth and started chewing on it, blowing bubbles with it and smirking when they popped. And then, at the end, when he reviewed her data and decided to admit her, she’d had the audacity to say, “Sooo… when do I get my power armour?”

And Maxson had given it to her. Danse still couldn’t believe it. 

Danse had shown her around the airship, and cringed when she stuck her gum to the underside of Quinlan’s desk, winking at Danse behind Quinlan’s back. 

They had done a few missions together, and then she had just vanished again, gone AWOL for over a month, leaving him cooling his heels at the airport. When she finally appeared again, she was wearing a navy blue frock coat and a tricorn hat. But the device had been ready, and she’d appeared just in time. 

He hadn’t seen her again when she returned, although he heard that she had. He also heard something else, from Haylen. Something that had caused his thought processes to shut down and his survival instinct to kick in. 

And so, he’d ran. He’d gone to Listening Post Bravo, and once he calmed down, he waited there for his executioner. 

But no executioner came. Instead, it was Amy Wilson, the unruly Vault dweller. And somehow after over an hour of back and forth, and another hour of her shouting at the Elder when he’d appeared outside the bunker, he’d found himself following behind her as she treked to her home in Sanctuary. 

She had never gone back to the Brotherhood. 

He hated that. He hated how he had worked so long and so hard for the Brotherhood and she had it and just threw it away. Like she didn’t appreciate the precious gift that belonging was. 

And when they’d gotten back to Sanctuary, and she’d given him his own house, and introduced him to her motley crew of followers, he’d hated it even more. A dismal group consisting of dirty wasteland mercenaries, robots, a ghoul, a super mutant, (a fucking super mutant!) and a synth detective. 

So that’s where he belonged now. Not with his brothers and sisters, but with a vagabond crew of abominations and synths. Synths… like him.

He knew she was responsible for the data that had revealed his true nature, and he hated her for that. He hated her for showing him compassion when he should have been destroyed. He hated her for rehoming him with that cast of horrors. 

He hated her for saving him. 

For some reason she’d started spending a lot more time with the ex-paladin after that, and he’d found even more reasons to hate her. They had travelled from place to place, helping people rebuild and defend themselves. He got annoyed when she would help anybody without question, no matter if they were human, ghoul, or synth. He hated when she would give away their ammo and supplies to new settlements along the way, disregarding everything he had ever stood for.

He hated how he’d been forced to stand at her back as she joined up with the rest of the Minutemen and brought down the Institute. Not the Brotherhood, but the Minutemen.

He hated it when she transferred a science robot into a synth woman, and then held her when she was afraid of the new world she was living in. He hated it when she helped that mercenary find medicine for his son, and then held him while he cried in relief. He hated it when she’d held people’s hands and wrapped her arms around their shoulders when they cried over lost crops or lost children. He even hated it when she comforted the damn dog.

She had never comforted Danse. 

He made sure she knew he didn’t need it. She asked if he needed anything, and he scoffed at her, and turned his back, and worked on the X-01 armour he had found to replace his beloved Brotherhood set. 

He hated the way she threw a party at Sanctuary and invited everyone to her house, and they sang and laughed, and Danse stood in the corner and tried not to look at her as she twirled around in that red dress, her short yellow hair sticking up in every direction, the red sequins highlighting her tiny form, sparkling as she spun. He tried not to look.

He hated that dress. 

He hated the way she would laugh at him as they would travel from settlement to settlement, and she would show him strange things from the past and explain what they were, and tease him, and throw things in the top of his armour he had to fish out, and ruffle his hair when he would clean his weapon around the fire at night. 

He hated the way her hair shone in the moonlight. 

He hated her laughter, her sparkling eyes. Her terrible jokes and her light spirit and her habit of rubbing her hands through her hair, making it stick up, and the way she made him sit still as she applied a stimpack to an injury he sustained. And how she looked at him with concern until he turned his back to her.

He hated her bravery and fearlessness in battle. He hated when she picked a machete or bat over a laser weapon. He hated how when she did use a firearm, it was a shotgun that was only effective when the enemy was close. He hated how she ran right into danger with no regard for herself. Or for the fear that clenched his chest with every small injury and near miss. 

And he hated how she had just run into a nest of super mutants and they were now fleeing for their lives.

He chased her up the street, thumping after her in the power armour. There were at least twenty mutants after them, many more than they could hope to fight off. And Danse knew that they would wear out before the mutants did. 

Suddenly Amy took a hard right turn, then skidded to a halt next to a blue cylinder. He reached her a moment later. “Hurry up!” he shouted at her. 

He took her hand and tried to get her to come, but she yelled, “Wait, Danse! Let’s hide in here. It locks from the inside.”

“No, I won’t fit.”

“Leave the power armour outside.”

Danse hated the idea of leaving his familiar armour. It protected him against bullets and knives, and stares, and concern. It kept him safe. 

“I’m too big.” He reiterated. At 6’4”, he was the biggest person he’d ever met.

“Well, I’m small. And they’re going to be here any moment.”

Danse scowled and reluctantly stepped out of his armour. Amy was already in the shelter, holding the door open for him. He squeezed in next to her and they locked the door. 

It was only a minute before he heard the mutants outside. 

“Where human go?”

“I want to eat!”

“Humans make good lunch!”

“All we have is dog! Eat dog! Be happy!”

They seemed to have congregated around the shelter, although from what they were saying, they didn't realize where Danse and Amy had gone. Rather, it appeared they were giving up, and setting up camp instead, and preparing a meal. 

Danse clenched his jaw in irritation. It was mid afternoon, and warm, and the shelter was already growing uncomfortable. Amy was crammed up against his chest, her nose pressed to his sternum. He couldn’t push her away, since neither of them had anywhere to go. 

“This is your fault,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” she replied. “I didn’t think there was anything in there.” 

“The bags of guts hanging in the doorway didn’t clue you in?” 

“I thought there might be books.”

Danse snorted. “Books. Books are worth letting down your guard and risking both of our lives? You’re always careless and reckless. You think everything is a joke all the time! You care too much about everyone, too much about being funny and joking, and not enough about paying attention.”

His voice began to rise as he towered over her in the small space. Amy had to tip her head way back to look at him. 

“You don’t care about anything that’s important. Loyalty and… and… tradition. There’s a right way to do things. And now look, we’re trapped in here.”

“I’m sorry, Danse.”

“Do you have a death wish or something?” he growled. “Are you _trying_ to get eaten by super mutants?”

“No, of course I don’t, but-”

“Are you trying to get killed by bugs, or raiders? Have you seen what raiders do?” His eyes closed as he pictured her, dismembered, hooks and spikes through her soft body. 

“No, I don’t. Please-”

His voice lowered. “What if it had been synths? Their weapons would cut you down before you got close enough to do any damage. Do you _want_ to be attacked by synths?”

Silence. 

Amy didn’t reply to him. 

Danse towered over her, breathing heavily, she looked up at him. Her eyes were light green. He just noticed. Like...radiation glow. They burned into him.

“There’s only one synth I want to attack me…” she whispered, finally. She turned red and looked at her feet. 

Danse was stunned. He stood there for a long minute, the heat in the shelter suddenly overwhelming, trying to figure out what she had said, what she meant by that. His heart pounded in his chest, unbearably, tightening his throat.

“Danse…” she said, her voice low, unsure, her customary cockiness nowhere to be found.  
He couldn’t decipher what she meant, what she was telling him. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to look her in the face. See for himself. He wrapped his large hands under her arms and lifted her easily so her face was level with his. He looked into her eyes. 

Her hand came up to his face, her finger tracing the line of his brow. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t face her. _I hate her,_ he tried to tell himself. But even he couldn’t believe that anymore. He felt her hand slide down the side of his face to his jaw, her thumb catching on his lip. 

The next thing he knew, her fingers were in his hair and their mouths were pressed together. He didn’t know who had kissed who, just that they were. He pressed her up against the wall of the shelter, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands, no longer needed to support her, wrapped around her tightly as his tongue explored her mouth.

They kissed hungrily, mouths moving to throats and faces, then back again for more, and he lifted her more firmly against himself, and pressed her against the wall of the shelter with his hips. 

It was so hot in the shelter, and humid. They were panting, gasping for breath. A loud voice just outside brought them back to the present. 

“We look for humans elsewhere! Go! Go there!”

The pair listened as the mutant voices faded. Danse realized they were seriously running out of air, so as soon as he could, he cracked open the door and peered outside. The coast was clear, so they stepped outside. 

Danse felt like he was stepping into a new world.


	2. Insight

Danse stepped out of the shelter and blinked in the bright sunshine. It was hot, but not as hot as it had been in the shelter, and the slight breeze on the back of his neck was refreshing. Amy burst out of the shelter like she always did. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “Was it hot in there? Or was it _hot_ in there?” She winked at him broadly.

Danse turned to his power armour. He felt raw and confused. It was a relief to return to the armour, its hard shell protecting him from injury. Physical and otherwise. He thought…

He didn’t know what he thought. He wasn’t even sure what was going on. He felt like his whole world had just flipped upside down. He looked at Amy. He didn’t know what to say. 

“Hey Danse,” she said. “We’re not that far from Diamond city… I want noodles. We should go to my apartment on Home Plate.” Without waiting for an answer, she began jogging to Diamond City.

It wasn’t as close as she thought. It was going to be at least a two hour walk. Danse sighed and followed after her. 

Once inside his armour and in the baking summer sun, Danse’s previous bad mood began to creep back. The breeze couldn’t reach him inside his suit, and he was overheating a little. Amy was prancing around like usual, chucking rocks at lampposts and singing, and her cheerful attitude was getting on his nerves. He wanted to stop and talk about what happened in the shelter, but she was acting like it didn’t even matter.

He thought he couldn’t get any more annoyed, but then a stiff breeze hit them, and he looked up to notice dark clouds forming. It wasn’t a radstorm; just a summer rainstorm. But they weren’t going to make it to Diamond City before it hit. 

Danse suggested they find shelter, but Amy insisted that it wasn’t that much further, and besides she liked the rain, so Danse continued trudging along behind her. 

Suddenly the sky opened up and the rain started pouring down onto them. Danse scowled. The water was pouring down his neck and trickling into his power armour. He could feel it running down his back, but he couldn’t reach it. It was aggravating the hell out of him. 

The storm was short lived, and soon the sun was back out again, evaporating the puddles and making the air thick and heavy. By the time they made it to the city, he was convinced the universe was trying to torture him to death. 

They made their way to Home Plate and went inside. Danse tromped his way over to the place he normally kept his power armour and stepped out of it. He turned to look at Amy.

She had stopped just inside the door, and was throwing her gear and mismatched armour pieces on the floor. It was the last straw for him. She did this all the time, and he always had to pick everything up and take care of it for her. 

“What the hell, Amy, your things are all wet, you can’t just throw them on the floor like this! There’s water all over the floor, your things are going to moulder…” He continued ranting, stepping closer and closer to her. “You just strolled here like nothing mattered, like nothing happened today.” Another step and he was leaning over her. 

Amy narrowed her eyes and took a step back. Not to retreat from him, but because the stairs were there, and when she stepped up onto the bottom riser, she was somewhat closer to being face to face with him. “You need to take better care of your things!” Danse continued his rant. “Don’t you care about anything?” 

Amy stood on her toes, bringing her eyes just about to chin level on him. She shoved him in the chest. “I care about you!” she shouted at him.

Suddenly, every feeling he had this afternoon in the shelter that afternoon came rushing back to him, and without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed her. He expected her to push him away, he braced himself for it, but instead she pulled him closer, and that threw him off balance. 

Without warning they were falling.

He managed to grab her around the waist and put his other arm out to catch them, so she wouldn’t be injured as they both fell down onto the staircase. Her hands grabbed him around the neck as they fell, and once they landed she immediately pulled his face back to hers for another kiss. 

Danse’s tongue swept her mouth. She tasted like Nuka Cola and sunlight. He explored her mouth, roughly, tasting every corner, and she wound her hands in his hair and held him tight. His hand on her waist began to slip up her back, under her shirt, and then around the front, where he squeezed her breast through her bra. She gasped and arched her back slightly, which gave him better access, and also pushed her crotch into his thigh. 

Danse didn’t think he could kiss her any harder, but he did, groaning low in his throat. Her hands left his hair and began skimming his shoulders and chest, and down his waist as far as she could reach. 

By the time several minutes had passed, she had somehow managed to pull his shirt off over his head, and he had worked his way between her thighs, where he was grinding his erection against her core. 

Finally she managed to whisper, “Let’s go up to my bed,” and he moaned in agreement. It was difficult to actually accomplish, however, as they kept pulling at each other’s clothing as they went, and occasionally tripped and fell back onto the stairs again. 

It was nearly ten minutes before she sat, naked, on the edge of the twin bed and he lowered her down onto her back. He pulled her over to the edge, and kneeling on the floor, pushed himself inside her, gently. He was tall enough and the bed was low enough that the angle was just perfect, and he began to slowly thrust into her. 

She wrapped her legs around him and tried to pull him closer, but he resisted until she finally said, “I’m not gonna break, Danse”

Her words unleashed every feeling, every thought he’d ever had about her, and so he lifted her up onto the bed lengthwise, giving himself traction, and began to slam into her the way he was just now realizing he’d always wanted to. 

He only managed to vaguely wonder if he was crushing her, before the tension coiled at the base of his spine exploded, and he pulled out of her just in time to catch most of his cum in his hand. He lay there breathless, for a moment, as he came back into himself. She was stroking his back, and it felt really good, but he wanted to clean up.

He suddenly thought of something, and leaned back a little, looking at her face. “Did you…”

“No.” she answered, but then she smiled. “That’s ok, we have all night”

*** 

Danse cleaned himself up, and pulled on his pants. Amy threw on some clothes too, and stepped outside to get some food for them from the noodle stand. While she was gone, he hauled the extra mattress up from downstairs, and put it on the floor, then took the one from the twin bed and put it next to the spare, making a bed large enough for them both to sleep on. 

By the time she was back, he’d made a comfortable place for them both, and she kicked off her muddy shoes and came upstairs with the noodles. They sat on the mattresses together and ate. And when they were both done, Amy crawled over to Danse and sat on his lap, where she began kissing him and roaming him with her hands.

Ten minutes later, she was on her back with his head between her thighs, and he made up for earlier. 

Three times.

***

Amy finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, but Danse lay awake for quite some time. He lay on his side, watching her sleep, his hand lightly stroking up and down her bare back. 

As he looked at her, her messy hair in all directions, her skin glowing in the faint light from downstairs, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was. He wondered how he’d never noticed before. How had he not noticed when she spun around in that red dress, or when she sat by the fire in the moonlight?

As he laid there, he came to the dawning realization that he had noticed, he’d just rejected it, hiding in his power armour and turning his back on her overtures. 

He thought back on all the times she’d come to him, asking if he was ok, if he needed anything, her concern for him obvious if he’d just looked. But he’d been so busy blaming her for everything he hadn’t seen it. 

Somehow she stuck with him despite that, making him worry about her when she ran headlong into a fight, making him eat and take care of himself. Patching up his wounds when he was too stubborn. Coming back even though he’d turned his back on her time and time again. 

He’d been so blind. 

He realized now that this feeling he had for her had been there, hiding in the background of his mind, for months. That his anger at her was armour, a metal shell that protected him as much as his X-01 did. 

Maybe it was time to leave it off, and let himself care about her, and let her care about him.

He smiled a little as he realized what his feelings were for her. 

The next morning when they stepped outside, he went without his power armour.

***

Ex-Paladin Danse loved Amy Wilson, the only survivor of Vault 111. He cherished her. Adored her, even. 

Everything she said, everything she did, endeared him to her in some fashion. He wouldn’t ever be away from her if he had any other choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me every step of the way. 
> 
> Let me know how it turned out.

**Author's Note:**

> E rating fake out. Haha.
> 
> Comments give me life! 
> 
> Come chat with me on tumblr, or else ask me a question! I'm really chatty. It's like a problem I have. I also enjoy sinspiration. Join me in my dumpster!
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/tessa1978


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